


The NASA Collision

by cephalopod_groupie



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: F/M, Humor, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-01
Updated: 2015-05-01
Packaged: 2018-03-26 14:35:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3854332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cephalopod_groupie/pseuds/cephalopod_groupie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A NASA astronaut crashes into Red Dwarf. Can this stranger help them all back to Earth?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Crash Landing

All four of them peered down into the hold with heart-stopping anticipation. Laid out inside the tomb-like component of the brutally scorched white shuttle was a thirty year old woman in an orange launch and entry suit. Beyond the steaming glass dome helmet her eyelids were closed. As they watched, her lids began to flicker like a faint radio distress signal.

"Shouldn't we take the helmet off?" Lister whispered.

"Is it safe?" Rimmer said urgently, suddenly looking up at Kryten.

"Oh, yes, I think so Sir. She has been in the holding bay for twenty-four hours. She should be acclimatized now." Kryten twisted off the with mechanical delicacy. It clicked, and a hissing noise escaped the neck plate. Kryten and Rimmer supported her upper back as they lifted off the helmet. The woman at first seemed peaceful, but as she breathed in, her forehead became troubled as if in a bad dream. Gradually, her eyes opened. As she looked up, four strange faces met her eyes. On her right hand side stood a man wearing a black leather cap, and closer to her stood a man with an H on his forehead. Squinted with perplexity she turned to her left. A flamboyantly dressed man with prominent canine teeth stared at her. Next to her head stood the the oddest one of the four. A metallic covered man with a rather squished, creamy faun colored head looked hopefully at her.

"I  _knew_  I never should have joined NASA!" she sighed in discomfort, covering her face with her left hand.

"She seems very weak, Sir," Kryten said in a very concerned tone, turning to Lister, "I think she needs to be taken to the medical bay."

Before Lister had a chance to answer, the woman struggled to prop herself up on her forearms. "Where am I? Who are you?"

"I'm Dave Lister. And you're on a mining ship in outer-space," he said enthusiastically.

"Since when does Great Britain have a space program?"

"Hi babe! You can call me tiger." Cat interrupted.

"Why are you dressed like Liberace?"

"Hello, I'm Kryten. I am a series 4000 mechanoid. Mr. Cat here is a humanoid descended from a cat."

Cat flashed his teeth at the woman.

"This is Mr. Lister, of course. And here is Mr. Arnold Rimmer. He is a hologram."

"He's dead." Lister said with more seriousness than he's ever used before on this subject.

"A hologram? But a hologram is an image created by light," she said disbelieving. And as she reached out to Rimmer, her fingers touched the front of his uniform and she added, "how can I touch him?"

"I'm composed of hard light?"

"I don't understand." she said drawing her hand away as she looked into his eyes.

Rimmer stared back, unable to explain. She laid back down wearily with a soft groan and closed her eyes.

"She really does look pale Sir."

"Yes, you should take her to the medical bay."

"Very well, Mr. Rimmer."

Kryten wheeled the woman down to the rambling metal corridor as the remaining three figures stared anxiously after the moving extraterrestrial casket.

"I have revived her with intravenous nourishment and a synaptic enhancer* and she seems to be doing well."

"How long do'ya think she's been in space?" Lister said to Kryten as the walked together.

"I don't know for sure. It could have been hundreds of years. But I won't know until I've run more tests."

"Could I go and see her?"

"Well, yes. If you could keep watch over her, Mr. Lister Sir, while I prepare some solid food." Kryten said as he walked away from Lister.

"Oh, Kryten," Lister called over his shoulder, "What's her name?"

"Flight Engineer Susan Putnam."

Lister walked in to see Susan slightly propped up looking at him. He saluted in a quasi-humorous fashion. "Reporting for duty Flight Engineer Susan Putnam, SIR!"

Susan giggled.

"Can I come in?"

"Yeah, go ahead." Lister pulled up a metal chair and sat next to the bed and folded his hands.

"I don't know what to say. We've never had another human on board."

"So it's just you and the robot - I mean Kryten - and the - "

"Cat."

"Cat, yes; and Rimmer?"

"Yup."

"And he's dead?"

"Like a charred Poppadom."

"That's terrible." Susan said casting her head down.

"Serves him right." Lister chuckled.

Susan looked up rather shocked.

"Well, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said that. But he's a complete  _smeg-head_!"

"What's that?" she said with slightly disgusted suspicion.

"You have a lot to learn."

Lister had given Susan a complete rundown of the radiation leak, Rimmer's history and supposed neglect of the drive plate, Cat's evolution, Kryten's origin, and his own history before she finally passed out of pure mental overload. His vigil over her had lasted at least an hour before Lister had realized she was no longer conscious. As he left to find Kryten, he failed to notice Rimmer loitering in the corridor outside. When Rimmer was quite certain Lister was well out of sight Rimmer crept in. It was some minutes before she came to to discover Lister was no longer there.

"Oh, it's you. Hello."

"How are you feeling?"

"Still groggy of course. How long have you been sitting there?"

"Ten minutes I suppose."

After an awkward pause, she said, "I'm still trying to wrap my head around this - so you are really dead then?"

"Yes. The computer simulation of myself is projected by a light bee from inside my form."

"How..." Susan whispered unable to finish her question.

Rimmer reached inside himself and extracted light bee* and it dropped to the floor.

With a sharp gasp Susan clapped her hand to her mouth. A second later, Rimmer was re-materializing. He stood up with a slight smile of satisfaction at having shocked her.

"Don't ever do that again!"

Rimmer was taken aback by her affectionate anger. He sat down not knowing exactly what to say. "I'm sorry, I'm must be out of touch with reality. I forgot how shocking it can be to witness."

"That's alright." she said trying to smile.

"But how can I feel light? Is it an illusion or something?"

"No, I used to be soft light, so people could put their hand through me. But then we met this alien, named Legion... well actually he was four people at once... anyway. This alien gave me a new light bee* that makes my projection solid-"

"I'm sorry, I don't mean to interrupt, but I don't think I have the energy to grasp that kind of science just now."

Rimmer was about to speak again, but Susan changed the subject.

"So what do you guys do around here to keep from going insane?"

"Invent as many games as possible. We've actually gotten pretty creative at that. Mostly we just try to annoy eachother. That's really what I'm here for. The computer chose me to become a hologram because Lister hated me. Still does."

"Oh, I'm sure he can't hate you. You probably have been through a lot together on your travels. You must have a kind of bond."

"Well, yes," Rimmer started, becoming pompous again, "They all look up to me. I am the highest rank on ship. They call me Ace."

"I find that hard to believe."

Rimmer couldn't help but be taken aback by her frankness. "Lister's been talking against me then."

"Well, no. But you did say he hated you."

Before Rimmer could answer, Kryten came clunking in. "Mr. Rimmer, I must insist that you let Miss Putnam get her rest. We don't want a repeat of Lemming Sunday*, do we sir?"

"What's Lemming Sunday?

Rimmer cleared his throat loudly and got up. "Well," he said, "I'd better get going." Kryten set a steaming tray down in front of Susan.

"Oh, goodbye," Susan said cheerfully, "See you later, Technician Rimmer."

"Arnold," Rimmer said in a tone that could only be described as tender.

Susan looked up. "Arnold." She gave him a weak, yet genuine smile.

Suddenly Rimmer felt human. He looked at her for a split second and then turned away. Susan watched him walk out of the room. As the echo of his hologramic boots died away, Susan asked Kryten, "So what's Lemming Sunday?"


	2. Being Human

Rimmer sat in the cockpit, not trying to be a big shot for once, but actually thinking. He was trying to remember the way he felt before they met Legion. Kryten walked in in his usual plodding fashion.

"Sir?" he queried in his Canadian-accented mechanoid voice. Rimmer didn't answer.

"Sir," Kryten repeated, "Is there anything I can do for you? Can I catalog something for you? Put something of Lister's in the airlock? Be your pathetic slave as I usually am, you pustulant smeg-headed dip-wad?"

"What?" Rimmer looked up.

Kryten behaved as if what he said had been all sweetness and light.

"Is something wrong, Sir? You look like you need me to refresh your light bee."

"No," Rimmer said with thoughtful grumpiness. He sighed. "I was just thinking about Legion. How did I ever manage before I got my hard light bee?"

"You were pretty miserable if I remember Sir," Kryten said in response to Rimmer's rhetorical question. "What made you think about that? Was it Susan?"

"Yes. No! I don't know! What do you want, Kryten?" Rimmer growled impatiently.

"Pardon me. Lister wanted me to make sure you were out of the – er - I mean that you were manning the cockpit."

"You were going to say 'out of the way,' weren't you? Why does he want me out of the way?"

Kryten didn't answer. Rimmer sprang to his feet and stalked off in search of Lister. Kryten began to needlessly dust the dashboard and muttered "troglodyte" under his breath.

"Well, that was a trip," Susan said after Lister unplugged the wires from her head. Susan stared straight ahead for a second or two and then turned to Lister. "His family was insane! No wonder he's such an ass!"

"Oh, don't make excuses for him!"

"I'm not. But anyone's natural unpleasantness would be multiplied three fold by those crazy people."

"True."

"And so the computer chose your exact opposite to keep you from going nuts, right?"

"You got it," Lister said cheerfully plopping himself down on his favourite couch. "Man, it's good to have another human being on board."

"Rimmer doesn't count, huh?" Susan said with a little smile.

Lister grinned broadly as he put his hands behind his head, leaned back leisurely, and plopped his feet on the table in front of him.

"You two must be pretty lonely out here, just the four of you," Susan said, getting up and sitting down next to him.

"Yeah," Lister said, trying not to think of Earth or the rest of the human race.

"Dave?" Susan said, breaking the thoughtful silence, "What do you do when... you know, you're... um..."

"Horny?" Dave had caught her suggestive meaning and started to chuckle.

"Yeah, that's what I meant." Susan said laughing.

"Well, we have ways of distracting ourselves, but sometimes it gets pretty hard – ah — I mean difficult. See? It hasn't been easy."

"I suppose the worst thing is trying not to think of people you've known."

"Kochanski."

"Huh?"

"Kristine Kochanski. My true love. I think about her all the time. Don't know if I'll ever see her again."

Susan looked at him thoughtfully and said, "I wonder if any of us will see anyone again." She paused, but then, realizing she was being a bit gloomy said, "Sorry."

"No, that's alright. We all get a bit down around here. Even Kryten. Not Cat, though. Sometimes he gets pretty bored, but I don't think he gets depressed. It's all just food and sex, with him.

"S'pose it is for me, too." Lister chuckled.

"Speaking of food; what's your supply like?"

"Oh, we've got enough, I think. We get worried, but we always seem to find another storage unit."

"Ever get really creative with dishes?

"No, not really. Rimmer doesn't eat and neither does Kryten. Cat gets his own food and I just eat curries and — Heeeeey! I've just had an idea!" Lister said slowly getting up.

"What?" Susan said enthusiastically.

"How would you feel about a triple fried egg sandwich with chili sauce and chutney?"*

"Oh, you can't be serious."

"Rimmer?" Lister said turning to the doorway.

"The first human being we've come across in centuries and you're going to kill her with a sandwich."

"Don't be ridiculous, Rimmsey. It's brilliant!"

"I'm game."

"I can't let you eat that thing."

"Well, that's very chivalrous of you, Rimmer, but I think I can manage."

"I'll go and make it!" Lister said, jumping over the back of the couch.

Rimmer sat down on the couch. And clasped his hand together almost nervously.

"When did you ever try that sandwich?"

"On my deathday."

"How morbid. But how could you taste it?"

"Our old computer Holly made me a digital one."

"Oh."

The awkwardness was bothering Susan, especially as she knew everything there was to know about Arnold J. Rimmer, the deceased and pathetic ego maniac who made it his job in life to drive others up the wall. After a minute or so of listening to Rimmer making the odd pft noise, Susan nearly said started the conversation up again, but he broke the silence.

"So, what have you and Lister been talking about? He's been bad-mouthing me, I suppose."

"He's right, you are an ego maniac."

"I knew it," Rimmer said with a bitter and self-satisfied half-grin.

"Actually, he wasn't bashing you much at all. He just told me about your early life." Susan tried to avoid alluding to his only two encounters with the opposite sex.

"All lies. Total boloney. Whatever curry-brain said, I deny it."

"It's not that bad."

"Really?" Rimmer said softly, turning 'round to look at her.

"Yeah. I mean, you're family wasn't ideal, if you don't mind me saying so."

"That's perfectly alright, they were all crackers."

"I don't suppose you miss any of them."

"Sometimes."

"Yes," Susan said quietly, "You can't help your family."

"What about yours?"

"They weren't bad. But we drifted apart. I thought they'd be proud of me that I got into NASA, but they weren't as enthusiastic as I thought they'd."

"How did you get this far out in space?"

"I don't know," Susan said almost dreamily, shaking her head.

"No, I mean, what kind of mission were you on?"

"Oh, it's not important."

Rimmer was taken aback by her evasiveness. "Oh, but–"

Just then, Lister came through the doorway, but stopped himself with his hands. "Finished!"

"My taste-buds are ready!" Susan said, getting up and following Lister out of the room.

Rimmer looked after her, very puzzled.

Rimmer followed Susan into the next room where Lister was sitting at a table.

"Oh, that looks like a nice sandwich!"

Rimmer burst out laughing and pointed at the table. "I should try it first."

Susan sat down and took a generous bite. It would seem to the observer that she was trying her hardest not to squirm, and at one point appeared as if she would spit it out. But she swallowed with considerable difficulty and spoke. "I never knew my intestines were that long."

"Great isn't it?" Lister enthused.

"It's wild! Did you invent this?"

"No, I found it in a book."

"On biological warfare," Rimmer interjected smugly, crossing his arms.

"No shit! I think my tongue just blew a fuse!"

To everyone's surprise, she kept eating. Lister rested his chin on his hand and looked at his handiwork. Rimmer shook his head, unable to grasp the concept that she actually liked such a strange piece of gastronomical trash.

"How can you eat something made by a man with no taste-buds?"

"Oh, he's just adventurous. You have to try new combinations, right Dave?"

"The only thing 'Dave' hasn't consumed is paint stripper," Rimmer said, sitting down between Lister and Susan.

"I had some chardonnay that was like that once."

Susan giggled through a mouthful of chili-smothered chutney and a piece of egg fell onto her plate.

"You were telling me about NASA," Rimmer said cautiously.

Susan went quiet. "Oh. That. It's not interesting."

"Come on! Why not?" Lister urged her, lightly nudging her shoulder with his left fist.

Before Susan had a chance to answer, Cat burst in the room, panting and spluttering.

"What is it, Cat?"

He couldn't speak and his pointed teeth were revealed in a strained and almost comic grimace.

"What is it, boy?" Rimmer asked with mock sincerity patting his leg.

"Ahh, did your clothes get crushed by the mailbag, again?" Lister said.

"Kryten said, come to the cockpit right now!" Cat said, and with a whip of his massive pink lapels, he was gone. One three-way exchanged glance between them, and they ran for the cockpit.


	3. The Adventure Really Begins

Lister, Rimmer and Susan burst into the corridor, their pounding footsteps echoing around them.

"Does this happen a lot?" Susan panted as they found themselves in the hangar.

"All the time," Lister shouted over his shoulder.

"Usually a false alarm, though," Rimmer added, bringing up the rear.

Soon, they flew through the cockpit doors and Rimmer clunked down in his seat. Susan stood behind his chair and held on to the back of it.

"We've hit a sudden field of space junk, sirs. I thought we'd better navigate through it in Starbug if we want to engage in our usual activities."

Lister said, "Oh smeg!" as he flopped down. They maneuvering out of the hangar and into the flying wrecks of shuttles, trawlers, and rockets.

"It's not Lister's old laundry this time."

"Looks like parts of derelict ships," said Cat in disgust.

"Time to dodge, park, and loot!" Lister said as if it was something quite every day.

"Is looting in outerspace illegal too?"

"Never stopped us before," Rimmer said casually as they avoided colliding with half an engine.

"The GELFs* nearly did a couple times though."

"Well, this isn't their zone."

"We'd better keep a sharp eye out for them, sirs."

"What are GELFs?"

"Lister's people."

"Go put yourself in the airlock and flush, gimboid."

"You were married to one once."

"Doesn't count. – Derelict off the port bow!" They all leaned sharply to the right in unison and then they were rapidly jerked the other way as they were slammed by another chunk of spacecraft. Susan nearly fell and had to grip Rimmer's shoulder to avoid falling onto his lap. She gasped almost inaudibly, straightened herself up quickly but left a hand on Rimmer's shoulder. Rimmer cleared his throat awkwardly. They navigated this way and that through the floating minefield of old spaceships.

"There's no point in even looking at the radar screen anymore," Lister said, exasperated as he swerved round a rough-edged strip of metal that appeared to be ripped off the side of a very large trawler.

"Looks like a bent pontoon strut," Susan said, trying to make sense of it all.

"That would have torn us right open. Cat, can you smell anything?"

"Other than your socks?"

"Come on!" Lister barked.

"OK, OK, I'm gettin' something off the starboard bow."

"What is?"

"Smells like a plastic cheeseburger."

"There you go, Lister's socks. Just ignore it." Rimmer interjected.

"Let's follow it! Maybe it'll lead us to a ship we can loot." Lister maneuvered Starbug hard right.

"We can't try to land now," Rimmer protested.

"I happen to agree with Mr. Lister, sir. It would be wise to land as soon as possible."

"I outrank you and my vote is that we continue to navigate until we reach a clearing."

"Shut it, Rimmer!" Lister shouted. A cracked hull slammed into their port side as they swung out trying to miss it.

"And," Rimmer added to Kryten, "You're forgetting Space Corps Directive 163860"

"Space Corps Directive 163860," Kryten said thoughtfully, "An officer with expert yo-yoing ability is automatically outranked by any officer or engineer who can juggle fruit."

"No no no!" They met another piece of debris which shut Rimmer up for good.

"Well, I'm drivin' and I say we follow that smell." They shot down a sort of tunnel made by the derelicts and narrowly missed several very dangerous-looking hunks of metal.

"I see an asteroid up ahead. Kryten, can you get some stats on it?"

"One moment, sir. Rich in minerals, extensive cavern systems, possible life-forms. What do you say, Cat?"

"Smells confirmed."

"What about the life-forms?" Rimmer said nervously.

"We'll have to risk it. 10 G-gooks* and closing."

"We'd better strap you in," Rimmer said to Susan as he got up and let her sit down. She buckled up and missed the puzzled looks from the rest of the crew. Rimmer held tightly onto the chair.

"5 G-gooks and closing. Brace for impact!"

With a hideously loud skid they landed in the opening of a great cavern. Everyone breathed a sigh of relief. Lister hit the yoke lightly and it spun round.

"Phew!" Everyone was silent as they unbuckled themselves. "You know the rules; there are none," Lister added as he walked past Susan and Rimmer, trying not to look at either of them.

"Except avoiding Emohawks, explosives and any kind of squid," Kryten added as he plodded to the scanner table following Cat.

"Come on, smeg head," he called out after he headed through the door.

Susan's knowledge of Rimmer's self-serving and cowardly nature made her rather uncomfortable in light of his recent spasm of...dare she even think it...caring. But she tried to act as if she wasn't aware of the behavioral dichotomy and thanked him.

"Well, I can't really be hurt, physically, so..." His pomposity had packed up.  _Where is it when I need it?_  he thought.

"Good decision," Susan said, instantly regretting it, grimacing as soon as she had her back to Rimmer. Out of Starbug, they all spoke softly in the echo-camber that was the asteroid cave.

"The breathing atmosphere appears relatively safe, but I suggest we proceed with caution, Mr. Lister. These life-signs may be GELFs, simulants, or even unemployed hobbyists. Based on our encounters, I posit that our chances of meeting a friendly life-form are 24,962: 1 against. About the same odds as finding nutrition in a canteen sandwich."

"Thanks, Kryten," Lister said, readying his bazookoid.* "Any nasal readings, Cat?"

"I'm still getting that plastic and cheeseburger smell," Cat said as he switched on a light.

"I think I can smell that too."

They made their way deeper into the cavern and the light from Starbug became increasingly dimmer. The light Cat was holding created long shadows. The dripping along the rocky tunnel's surface and their footfalls were the only sounds they heard for several yards.

"Hey!" Lister shouted. He was shushed until the echo died away. "Look," he whispered, pointing to the far left side of the tunnel. Cat shone the light in the direction Lister was pointing. Haphazardly stacked up were nearly 50 old white plastic crates. Printed on the tops and the sides in a dark red font were the letters: N.A.S.A. Cat, Kryten, Lister, and Rimmer looked at Susan. She approached the creates with supreme confusion and trepidation.

"I don't get it," she said above a whisper. She reached out and touched the corrugated surface. It was very cold to the touch and her head was spinning with astonishment. "I never had this many supply cases on my craft. They just wouldn't fit." Susan shook her head.

"Then where did they come from?" Lister said, his eyes fixed on the white cases. Suddenly, there was a familiar click behind them. They all whipped round to see a shadowed figure in a cavity in the tunnel wall. His face was grizzled and scarred, his shaved head was tattooed, and a blood-red cape fluttered behind him. He was holding a bazookoid.

"I don't care where they came from," he said in a grumbling voice, "But they'll take me far."

"OK, pal," Lister said, squaring off, "Guns down. We just want to cut a deal. These crates belong to our confederate's people."

"Well, now they belong to me."

"Well, we disagree," Lister said, taking a step forward.

"Dave," Susan said, "it's not worth it."

"She's right; it's not." They all faced the bazookoid. Rimmer gulped. Susan took a deep breath. Cat blinked. Kryten didn't move an inch. Lister stood his ground.

**Author's Note:**

> [Anything with * is not my idea.]
> 
> [Originally published December 21, 2011](https://www.fanfiction.net/s/7656920/1/Red-Dwarf-The-NASA-Collision) 


End file.
